I nodded, gesturing vaguely at her figure. “Nice curves in a small package. Bright hair, and symmetrical eyes. Passable.” I smiled as I lied. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever had the misfortune of being attracted to.
“Symmetrical eyes?” she repeated in disbelief.
“Why? Is that not an attractive trait in humans?” I blinked up at her innocently.
She glared at me. “I’ve had enough of you tonight.” Gods, she was beautiful when her eyes flashed and her color was up. My heart lurched.
I needed sleep because this lurching and stuttering and pumping was getting annoying. In the morning I’d feel normal again.
Lilith stomped to the door, wisps of blond hair framing her face like a halo. She jerked the door open and glared back at me. “You have no idea how demanding and difficult I can be,” she threatened. “Half the congregation thinks I’m difficult. But I’ll let you find out how much I can be. I’ll see you tomorrow, Castiel.” My name sounded like a curse on her tongue.
And damn me, I liked it.
With that, she left and slammed the door shut behind her.
I forced the ayim in my body to slow by taking deep, steady breaths while I picked at the vegetables on my plate. I grinned. Tomorrow was going to be a lot of fun.
Six
Lilith
The next morning was more chaotic and difficult than I’d feared. When I came down the stairs into the living room, I caught sight of my mother covering the hall looking glass with gray cloth.
I paused on the last step, glancing around.
The curtains had not been drawn this morning, which left the room in deep shadow. Only one small strip of light slipped through the crack in the curtains and darted across the wooden floor, through the doorway into the hall, until my mother’s skirts blotted it out. The front door’s seal was tight enough not even an outline of sunlight appeared.
“Good morning,” I murmured.
Mother glanced at me, eyes red-rimmed. She pointed to a pile of clutter resting on the hearth of the small parlor fireplace. “Sort that. Some of Absalom’s things are in there.”
I rubbed my forehead. “Yes, Mother.”
“You aren’t wearing that to your brother’s funeral, are you?” she demanded as I crossed the small room.
“I…” I glanced down at the maroon muslin dress. “This is my finest dress. It’s my Solstice dress.” What else would I wear?
She sniffed and swept into the kitchen, leaving the door open so she could call to me. “The elders’ wives decided we’re eating in the fellowship hall for breakfast. Two losses like this…it’s best if the congregation stays together.”
I knelt at the hearth and began to sort through odds and ends that belonged to Absalom. A few coins, a scrap of paper with illegible scrawl, an extra key to his new cottage, and a handkerchief.
“Mother? What do you want me to do with these?” Sadness, or perhaps an echo of sadness, drifted through me.
She blew her nose. “I suppose Silence has a right to them since she’s his wife. Widow. But he’s my son. They’re too precious to give away.”
I stared at the dirty handkerchief. “Um.”
“I’ll make a keepsake box,” she decided.
How little our family had become. It was surreal. Absalom was gone. Before that, it was Father. And before that—well. My mother hadn’t created a keepsake box when my elder sister disappeared from the family.
Despair swirled through me. Was this really all that was left of the Meadows? Old anger rose, making my pulse spike. It didn’t have to be just the two of us. If my sister had behaved, done the right thing, had listened, then she’d still be here. She was long dead now. I knew it deep in my heart. No young woman could survive the streets of Lownden alone.
And now Absolom, my younger brother.
My vision blurred, and a hot tear fell on my hand. He’d been a brute, but he was my brother. I’d tried to keep him in line as much as I could. I was a woman and he’d been an elder, but I was still his older sister, and that relationship never quite faded away, no matter how powerful a man became.
A cabinet door slammed in the kitchen. “Silence might be his widow, but I’m his mother.”
